


To Courage

by midnight_bird



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Movie Spoilers, Post-Movie 2: Dark Knight (2008)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_bird/pseuds/midnight_bird
Summary: Maybe Barbara had been right and Gotham wasn’t worth saving anymore.





	To Courage

 

_“Black smoke, red sky. The television's sayin’ downhill, head on. Another crash is comin’._

_Move. Or watch the murder of your way of life._

_There's a science to fear. It plagues my mind and it keeps us right here…”_

— Science of Fear, by The Temper Trap

 

His footsteps sounded wrong. Gordon paused in the middle of the kitchen, trying to figure out why. Then he realized: in all the years he’d paced the apartment floor, working over cases in his head, they had never echoed. There had always been rugs, drapes, furniture, toys, pets, and people, to muffle the sound. Tonight, they were absent.

Gordon sighed. The divorce hadn’t been a surprise. First came the fights. Long nights of hushed, angry whispers in the dark, trying not to wake the children. Then it spilled over into the daylight and they could no longer pretend things weren’t going bad. Soon, the apartment air was thick with shouts, mostly on Barbara’s part. Gordon had also felt like shouting at times, but he hadn’t had God on his side.

Or rather he had. Gotham had always been a jealous mistress, but in the old days, it had been alright. They’d seen it as a kind of “I could not love thee, dear, so much/Loved I not honor more,” scenario. It had been romantic, to Barbara, that he poured his heart and soul into trying to improve the city; trying to make a better life for others.

Then crime skyrocketed and everything decent went careening out of control. Soon, Gordon was spending nights on end away from her; away from his family. He told himself it was all for the good; that sacrifices must be made in wartime. He was a soldier in a police suit; a bringer of the peace. It was that conviction which kept him going through hell.

And then his own son had nearly been killed: saved at the last moment by a masked vigilante. It had nearly broken Barbara, seeing her child so close to death and all because of Gotham. That night, she gave Gordon a choice: Gotham or his family.

Weary to the point of exhaustion, yet driven by some cross between stubborn pride and a sense of honor, Gordon chose his jealous mistress. Before the divorce was even finalized, Barbara took the kids and moved far away from the hell-hole she’d come to resent. He couldn’t blame her.

Gordon turned to give the kitchen-slash-dining-slash-living room a last look-over. He’d already gone over the kids’ rooms, the tiny bathroom, and master bedroom. All were empty. The kitchen was as well.

He headed to the side door and stepped outside onto the fire escape. It was dark, or as dark as Gotham ever got at night. The sky was inky; shot through with flares of red light.

Gordon sank down on one of the narrow metal steps. He was supposed to head to his new place, but he was so very tired. He cradled his forehead with his hands, rubbing his pounding temples. Maybe Barbara had been right and Gotham wasn’t worth saving anymore.

“I knew you'd be here.”

Gordon didn’t have to look up and behind himself to know the graveled voice of Batman. He didn’t have to, so he didn’t. He just sat there, waiting for the next words to come: most likely some sort of platitudes about how he was doing good work - bullshit like that.

But Batman was quiet. Instead of words, Gordon heard a faint rustle and felt the slight disruption of air that meant the cloaked man was moving to sit on the step just above his. Then he felt the iron yet gentle touch of a gloved hand land heavily on his shoulder.

A sudden prick of moisture stung his eyes. He wouldn’t do it, he resolved. Not here. Not in front of _him_. But Gordon’s strength failed and his head slumped against Batman's hand as he shook with silent, wrenching sobs.

How long they stayed like that, Gordon didn’t know. But finally, he pulled himself together and the hand on his shoulder released him.

He sighed and took off his smudged glasses, wiping them methodically on his shirt. He was glad of the excuse to avoid looking at his silent comforter. When the lenses were dry, he slid his glasses back on and pushed himself up to his feet. Reluctant, he turned toward Batman. But he was gone.

On the steps where he had been, there was a bottle of wine with a slip of paper tied to the neck. It was an extremely expensive variety: the kind that Bruce might serve at a Wayne Manor gala. Stooping, Gordon picked up the bottle and read the roughly-scrawled note:

        _To courage. — B._

Gordon clasped the bottle to his chest for a moment. Then he pulled out his pocketknife and flicked open the corkscrew. As he did so, he noticed the crimson sky was fading, in anticipation of dawn.

He closed his pocket knife, leaving the cork untouched. His new place would need a christening. And he couldn't do better than wine from an ally.

**Author's Note:**

> “I could not love thee, dear, so much/Loved I not honor more" is from "To Lucasta, Going to the Wars," by Richard Lovelace.
> 
> Unbetaed. Civil feedback is appreciated. // Disclaimer: Batman belongs to DC Comics and Nolan.


End file.
